


im about to call the post-apocalyptic cops on myself

by Cartoongore (orphan_account)



Category: LISA (Video Games)
Genre: Fantasizing, M/M, Masturbation, Trans Male Character, Vomit, based off that headcanon that’s like “fly respects brad but he’ll never EVER admit it, i have no love for myself, no i don’t know what im doing and no i never will, not in a sexual sense fly is just a vile little man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:07:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23704381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Cartoongore
Summary: A bored Fly just tries to get off and he keeps thinking about Brad.Also Fly is trans because im trans and i make the rules
Relationships: Fly Minetti/Brad Armstrong
Comments: 6
Kudos: 11





	im about to call the post-apocalyptic cops on myself

It was Fly’s turn to keep watch over the campsite, and holy _shit_ was it boring. He wished a gang would come attack them, maybe try to kidnap someone and spice up his uneventful evening. But the night was disturbingly calm. He groaned, slouching further into his shopping cart. Out of all the nights to be serene, why’d it have to be tonight? 

After a few more minutes of silence, he huffed and sat up just a little, throwing one leg over the side of the shopping cart. Fuck it, if the night wasn’t gonna be fun, he’ll just have fun by himself. 

He reached down his filthy, vomit-stained sweatpants and began rubbing his clit two fingers.

”Mmm..” He threw his head back and began thinking of the dirtiest things he could think of. _His favorite character from his favorite anime eating him out_. He shoved his other hand down there so he could finger himself. _Him tied to a post, getting used by anybody who came by_. With no regard for anybody else, Fly moaned as loud as he wanted to. Brad Armstrong.

Wait. Brad Armstrong?

He felt a surge of nausea, and he threw up over the side of his shopping cart, hands still down his pants. He certainly did not want to think about his greatest rival at a time like this. He was horny, not looking to start a fight.

He tried starting again, doing the same thing he was doing. He was enjoying himself for a few moments, then Brad (*gag*) wanders back into his thoughts again. 

Another surge of nausea, but this one thankfully didn’t end in puke. Jesus Christ. Fly just wanted to get off, was that to much too ask? He didn’t like Brad. He totally didn’t like Brad. Looking at him fight and burn people to gory, screaming crisps with his fire magic totally, 100%, didn’t make him horny at all.

No, he’s lying to himself. It does. Fuck. He shifts in discomfort, sighing in frustration. He went silent again for a few minutes. 

_Fuck it,_ he eventually thought, _He doesn’t have to find out._

He closed his eyes and went back to fingering himself, absently rubbing circles on his clit as he did so. He started imagining that it was Brad’s fingers instead of his own, curling inside of him and stroking his inner walls. 

“F-fuck..” Fly’s fantasy Brad had pinned his hands above his head, biting at his neck in a way that was sure to leave a mark.

Real life Fly moaned shamelessly, arching his back a little. 

Fake Brad had his hands on Fly’s hips, and he held him down on his dick as he fucked him as hard as possible. 

“Mph- fuck- Brad- FUCK-“ Fly came at the same time his fantasy Brad did. Fly opened his eyes after a little bit. He was still breathless. He took his hands out of his pants and wiped them on his shirt.

When he snapped out of his post-orgasm haze, he noticed Terry had gone missing, the only clue to where he could’ve gone being a ransom note.

**Author's Note:**

> I was listening to Hellfire from the Hunchback of Notre Dame while writing this. It was possibly the best worst idea I’ve ever had.


End file.
